A Fairy-Tale Plot (Our Very Own Happy Ending)
by unoriginalrhombus
Summary: Totally AU. During Senior year, Santana reads an article that states 'How to make anyone fall in love with you'. "She decides to go through with the experiment because she's genuinely curious as much as she is bored, and she thinks it's the kind-of thing that will separate her from the other college applicants. She settles on Quinn Fabray because she's petty."
1. All You're Ever Gonna Be Is Mean

_A/N: So, I tried something a little different and I don't really know if I like it. This story probably won't be very long, goodness no, but let me know what you guys think. Thank you! CREDIT WHERE IT'S DUE: Like, a year ago (maybe more) I read this Faberry fic called Your Song, where Rachel bet somebody that she could make Quinn fall in love with her. That fic spurned this one, except to me, Santana would be more of a bitch. Anywho, thanks!  
_

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee nor do I profit off of Glee, or any of that nonsense.

* * *

**All You're Ever Gonna Be Is Mean**

First and foremost, Santana Lopez is a _bitch_. Whether she was born that way or built that way over time, that was for her to know and nobody to find out.

She's a Senior now and she believes that it's time she puts down all the pretenses, so she devotes less time in trying to be otherwise.

Contrary to popular opinion, Santana enjoyed being that girl. She enjoyed knocking others down just so that she could build herself up. It's cruel, she knows, but it's also high school. She wasn't deluded enough to believe that Lima was where she'd matter, so she felt no qualms about destroying any relationships that could have been built there.

She doesn't do friendly or friends, no, she does hostile and enemies, because she knows that once graduation comes, she's hightailing it out of Lima with no intention of ever turning back. Relationships and friends and memories are things that hold you back, they tie you down, and Santana Lopez would be damned if she let anything tie her down to Lima.

Her only exception is Brittany and Santana feels like that's because Brittany would be her exception to anything and perhaps everything. They've been best friends since they were six, and it's like a movie once said, 'sandbox love lasts a lifetime'.

It's not just that. It's also the fact that since day one Brittany has had zero problem cutting past off of Santana's barriers and bee lining straight for Santana's heart. She gets underneath Santana's skin so easily that it's almost uncomfortable, but she lets it slide because it's _Brittany._

Plus, Brittany's importance will never vary in Santana's life. She has it specifically planned that the day she leaves this hell hole is the day she brings Brittany with her, because Santana can't let her best friend rot somewhere that's only ever been good at destroying dreams. Brittany's too good for that.

Anyway, aside from Brittany, Santana has no need for personal relationships. She doesn't care about teamwork or friends or clubs, she does what she has to so that she can build up her college resume. She tears down who she needs to so that it's one less person she has to beat out in the future.

Statistically speaking, she read somewhere that only 4% of Lima residents make it out of state, the rest just stay behind to rot or live every day just like the one before. Santana can't be one of those 4%, she can't be left behind, so what's the problem with destroying your competition in the process?

That's what brings her to now, she's spent that past four years building and plotting and planning, just to end up _here._

She's sitting in her Science class trying to finish up her Senior Project when she comes across an article about scientifically making someone fall in love with you. It's dumb, she thinks, because even if you had some sort-of super powers of love like those weird Twilight kids, it's still pretty impossible to make someone fall in love with you.

She knows this because she _tried_, with Brittany, and all that got her was heartbreak and a vicious snarl. And perhaps also an icebox where her heart used to be.

Anyway, Santana's about to shove it away when a thought hits her. She's literally seven months away from graduation. Her Senior Project is nearly done because, oddly enough, Santana Lopez actually loves science. She's had her Senior Project pegged since Junior year, her volunteer hours are done, she has three Cheer Leading championships, and two Glee Championships, and a part-time job. She's so done with this stage of her life that she's practically _bored_ with herself, so she reaches for the article.

Santana still thinks it's dumb. She's the girl that thinks that anything involving love is useless, so this article holds no real appeal or power over her. However, scientifically speaking, it has it's draws. If such a thing were actually possible and Santana could prove it...well, that would certainly set her far ahead of the other kids.

Santana's not sacrificing her Senior Project, no. She's not dumb, that thing is so far done it's practically burnt. No, this could be a side thing, a thing she does just for herself to see if it's true.

She decides to go through with the experiment because she's genuinely curious as much as she is bored, and she thinks it's the kind-of thing that will separate her from the other college applicants. Because, let's be honest, Lima, Ohio doesn't stand out anywhere, so why would it make her stand out to others?

Santana grabs a blank notebook from the stack in her backpack and a notebook and shoves the article inside, her mind already planning a time frame and jotting an outline of rules and guidelines.

It's strange that such a stupid thing could fill Santana with such excitement, especially when said thing was also pretty horrendous, and it makes Santana think that maybe she hasn't been living these past eighteen years.

She shakes the thoughts away with twist of her head, her body scrambling out of her chair and out of her classroom. All that's left for her to do is pick a subject.

She settles on Quinn Fabray because Santana's petty, and that's just how things go sometimes.

* * *

If there was ever a thorn in her side, it's Quinn fucking Fabray.

She was the token Christian cheerleader and the student body held her on a pedestal, even though she had spent the majority of her sophomore year at the bottom of the social ladder, she had somehow managed to climb back up.

Santana loathed the girl because she was everything Santana hated about the world.

Santana had to work for everything she was given, just so she could end up in second place over and over again. Quinn worked off of handouts and others mistakes. Sure, Quinn was talented, but she was also useless when it came down to it.

Quinn's beauty was created by a doctor, her Cheerleading Captaincy by her sister, her social status by Finn, and her overall status by her parents. Quinn was given everything in life and Santana hated her for it.

So maybe it seems pretty cruel and pretty outlandish, especially since Quinn was practically the walking billboard for heterosexuality and since they were supposed to friends..._but_ they were always better enemies than friends and Quinn's glance always lingered when it should have strayed.

Overall, it's bitchy and interesting and terrible, and Santana's _excited_.

If she could destroy _The Quinn Fabray_ while simultaneously destroying Quinn's heart and getting her Captain title back, then Santana would do it.

She certainly was petty, but hey, teenage girls sometimes.

* * *

It's her Senior year of High School and Santana Lopez is busy plotting how to make Quinn Fabray fall in love with her.

If her fifteen year old self could see her now, that girl would probably be ashamed. But time has made her a little bit older and a little bit colder. It's taught her that being a bitch has it's benefits, and that if you don't screw someone over first, they'd probably screw you.

In a way, this is a project. It's something to do for fun instead of hyperventilating every time the mail comes. In a sense, it's also payback. For Quinn ratting out Santana anywhere and everywhere she could. Santana wasn't in the mood to cut Quinn slack, she's cut her slack all along and that's what helped Quinn get ahead of her time and time again.

Santana focused her attention back to the article. Overall, it's pretty lame, but it does make some valid points. She had spent the previous night taking down notes and building an outline that'll help her squirm her way into something that Quinn holds dearly. Whether it's her heart or her panties, Santana doesn't care.

Payback is a pretty bitch, just like Santana.

* * *

**Act I: Make sure they always associate you with positive feelings.**

_Step One: Make Quinn laugh._

* * *

Santana swallowed her pride as she pushed over Jew Fro. Normally, she was opposed to touching something so disgusting and contagious, but this was necessary.

Jew Fro cowered, his afro moving from side to side as he shook. Santana grinned in triumph. "Listen here, Jew Fro, I know you covet that seat next to Quinn that you practically jack off in every week, but I needs it."

"Bu-"

Santana held up her hand to silence Jew Fro's response. "I don't care what you have to say. You give it to me or I'll make sure you end up with no Fro."

"You wouldn't!" Jew Fro exclaimed, his face smashed together in horror.

Santana rolled her eyes. "Why are you still standing here?"

And just like all things, Santana took what she wanted from pure fear alone.

* * *

If Quinn was surprised when Santana slid in the chair next to her, she didn't show it. Instead she shrugged and went back to writing in her girly ass journal. Seriously though? Where were the skulls and the hot chicks? Quinn had no sense of style.

A few minutes passed before Santana grew irritated with Quinn's high horse. She cleared her throat before leaning over and laying her hand on Quinn's shoulder.

"Listen here, Q, I got some vodka in my car and I was thi-

Quinn shrugged off Santana's hand and slammed her journal shut. Santana frowned, okay, it was time for a different tactic. "Hey, listen, is there any way you could help me out with the science homework bec-"

"What do you want, Santana?"

Santana frowned, obviously failing massively at this thing called communication. "I need help with the science homework."

Quinn turned in her chair, her ponytail perfect and her glare withering. Santana frowned on reflex. God, what a perfect bitch. Quinn raised an eyebrow. "You've turned into such an awful liar since your whole escapade with Brittany, you know."

"Excuse me?"

Quinn looked over at the teacher to make sure he still wasn't paying attention before turning her focus back to Santana. "Maybe you've forgotten, but I know you better than everyone else in this pathetic town outside of Brittany. You've excelled in Science classes since we were twelve because you secretly love them, not to mention the fact that you carry the third highest G.P.A in this school, behind Artie and myself. So what do you really want?"

Santana glared. Damn, what a double bitch. She licked her lips before settling on something eerily similar to honesty. "I always admired how you could go from unsuspecting chum to crazy fucking bitch in a matter of seconds."

It's a true testament to their wacky ass relationship when Quinn laughs, and Santana smirks in response. She chalks up this moment to a win, even if it's a minor one.

Quinn smiles at Santana and for a second Santana almost falters because Quinn looks genuine. She shakes it off though, with a reminder that nothing Quinn has ever done has been genuine.

Quinn looks away. "I'm glad it's you sitting there instead of Jew Fro."

Santana grinned, all cunning smiles and ruthless lips. "You're very welcome for my selfless act. Now, let's discuss the ways in which you can pay me back."


	2. What Should I Scream For?

A/N: Wow, the response to this has been massive. I hope this lives up to the hype!

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**What Should I Scream For? This Is My Theme Park**

Brittany S. Pierce is a perfectly average girl, thank you very much.

Most people would take offense to being called average, but Brittany wasn't most girls. With all the tests, procedures, and imaginary friends she was forced to go through as a child, it was nice to finally feel all good and normal.

With the exception of Lord Tubbington's addiction to Nyquil, his tendency to stalk her Glee comrades, and that one time Brittany saved the world, she was pretty much leading the average life.

Brittany had Cheerios -which she had at first thought was a support group for people who suffered from Cheerio addictions, but she digresses-which she was awesome at, and Glee Club, which Brittany pretty much ran on the regular. Mr. Schue was pretty good at looking and being lost (she's certain it's because he hasn't found the right hair gel yet that will keep him focused, but Brittany has faith he'll find it one day), so Brittany found no real harm in taking over. Plus, those kids could only benefit from her physical and vocal prowess.

Life was good, she was good, Lord tubbington was trying to be good, and nobody thought she was weird anymore.

_Well_, not in the bad way, anymore.

The only really extraordinary part of her life these days came in the package of one Santana Lopez.

Santana was extraordinary because she was clearly never meant for Lima, and unlike Quinn, Puck, Sue, or even Brittany, Santana wasn't okay with settling. Santana always went for more. She was reckless, a rebel without a cause, Johnny Cash if you will.

(If you exclude the fact that she's a lady and not that into country music.)

Santana was careless and carefree, she was a love movie without the beginning and the middle. Santana was the end, she was pushy and bitchy, but she was great in every way Brittany could ever want her to be. It's what made Brittany fall in love with Santana so quickly and so effortlessly.

Well, that and the fact that Santana had super pretty boobs. Plus, Lord tubbington tended to lay off the drugs whenever Santana was around and Brittany was down for more good influences in his life.

Like all great miracles in life (Free Willy, Jesus, etc.), something huge happened, and Santana somehow managed to love her back. Santana went for the gold and it was impossible for Brittany to not marvel at the sight.

Santana was like looking at a pair of ruby slippers, Brittany only needed to click her heels three times and she'd be at home.

The problem with loving someone so much (who's so big in life) is that Brittany often didn't feel big enough. Santana was going places and Brittany wasn't so certain that Santana would be taking Brittany with her, so Brittany had pushed for Santana to come out. She needed proof outside of her little bubble, she needed something bigger than ducks and rainbows and hidden kisses.

Santana pushed back because she's _Santana_ and it was in that moment that Brittany realized, yes, Santana loves her. She just didn't love her enough, at least not right now.

Never one to fear things that weren't moths or Easter Bunnies, Brittany had faith that Santana would come come back to her some day. So she stepped aside and let Santana breathe for herself.

Santana was devastated because she didn't get what Brittany was thinking, and that's okay. Brittany didn't need anyone else to see her super secret plan, at least, not yet. That's how she was able to save the world last time without anybody noticing, she's just that good at keeping the secrets that matter.

It took awhile for Santana to warm to the idea of a friendship, even longer for her to warm to the idea of Artie and Brittany. She didn't see that Artie was Brittany's right now, but not for forever, and Brittany didn't want to explain it. She needed Santana to live without her and love without her that way when she was all done being reckless, she could come back and be safe with Brittany.

So while Santana created distance, Brittany still studied Santana like she was a wonderfully written Dr. Suess book. She knew Santana better than she knew herself, literally, sometimes she confused herself whereas Santana never confused Brittany.

Anyway, that's how she was able to tell that Santana was up to something these days. Just like she was able to tell that Lord Tubbington had picked up smoking again, she could practically _smell_ it.

"You're plotting." Brittany stated airily as she slipped into the desk right next to Santana.

Santana, for her own part, wasn't even startled. She looked up at Brittany, amused at her friends words. "Never."

Brittany smiled because it wasn't a lie, it can't be a lie when you never tell the truth. "I like it when you plot."

"And I like it when you accompany me."

Brittany leaned forward and tried to peek at Santana's notebook, even though Santana was practically towering over it. Brittany only managed to read a few sentences before Santana snapped her notebook shut:

**Step One: Make Quinn laugh.**

**Step Two: Compliment her, genuinely.**

Brittany frowned, discouraged and a little more than confused. "I know you're really badass, but it doesn't need to be a secret that you're trying to make Quinn feel pretty or whatever."

"That's not what I'm trying to do, B."

"Well," Brittany started, her hands drumming on the edge of the table. "Then what are you doing?"

Santana sighed, her shoulders doing that thing whenever she doesn't want to hurt Brittany but usually ends up doing it, anyway. "I can't tell you...and you can't help me with this, Brittany."

Brittany scrunched up her face in hurt. Santana's words were like a bee sting sometimes, quick and painful. "Is this like a secret Quinn and Santana thing?"

"No, this is just a Santana thing." Santana tried, her voice soft.

"What's just a Santana thing?"

Brittany looked over Santana's shoulder to see Quinn standing there, one hand on her hip and the other one gesturing at Santana. Brittany didn't really mind Quinn, mostly because she was pretty, but also because everyone needed a hug sometimes. Plus, Quinn used to take her to the park on Saturday's (before she was pregnant) and she would sit with Brittany while she fed the ducks. Quinn never said anything, but Brittany figured that that's what made friendships for Quinn, so Brittany didn't mind.

Santana puffed her chest out and Brittany let her gaze linger. "Nothing really, Q, except for how your legs look in that Cheerio uniform. That's definitely a Santana thing." Brittany looked up just in time to see Santana wiggle her eyebrows suggestively.

Wait, that was new. Brittany frowned at Santana's response. She had never been so blatantly Santana in front of Quinn before, and Brittany didn't really understand why she was doing it now.

Quinn blushed (she actually blushed) and rolled her eyes playfully, and Brittany couldn't help but feel like she stepped into The Twilight Zone. For a brief moment, Brittany worries that she didn't use that metaphor correctly, because she had only seen that one marathon with Artie. She shakes her head and expels the thoughts quickly, her attention turning back to her two best friends.

Quinn rolled her eyes playfully, her arm swatting Santana's arm. Santana, for her own part, just looked smug. "Stop being so crass, Lopez."

"Stop liking it so much, Fabray."

Quinn laughed a laugh that was all Quinn and very little Quinn Fabray, and Brittany felt herself grow more confused with every second. Quinn and Santana weren't friends, comrades, sure. But friends? Never. So this weird thing they had going was like that one time Brittany tried to watch a soap opera only to realize it was in Spanish nearly three hours later.

"God, I don't know why I even agreed to hang out with you." Quinn says rudely, even though her expression says she means otherwise.

Santana shrugs, her legs stretching as she gets out of her seat. "I gots a classy ride and you definitely like to ride in style?"

"Oh, shut up, let's go."

Santana curtsies. "Anything for you, my _princess_."

Brittany frowns again when a blush creeps it's way onto Quinn's cheeks. She feels like she's been slapped with a fish, whatever that feels like, and Brittany doesn't get it. She lets it happen, of course, because she honestly doesn't get a lot of things.

Like, why classes are split into six periods throughout the day when you reach middle school, but they're not like that in elementary. Like, how it's more important for kids to learn how the world was created than it was for them to learn how to be nice people. Like, why it's okay for two colors to make another one, but not okay for two people (of any color, gender, whatever) to make something together.

_Anyway,_ she's off topic.

"Wait," Brittany called out after her two friends. "Where are you guys going?"

Santana turned around, a somber expression on her face. "Q owes me one."

"Yeah," Quinn agrees, not really answering Brittany's question. "I'm in debt to her."

Brittany nods even though she doesn't agree, not really. "Can I come?"

Quinn opens her mouth and says, "yes" at the same time that Santana whispers a quiet "no".

It shakes Brittany, worse than that earthquake in the sixth grade, because Santana has never denied her anything. Quinn looks as surprised as Brittany feels, her mouth is hanging open and her cheeks are blushing again.

Santana has the decency to look guilty. "Sorry, B, but this is kind-of just a me and Q thing."

"It is?" Quinn asks, her eyes open in awe.

Santana shrugs. "Yeah, now let's head out. See you later, B!" Santana reached for Quinn's hand and tugged her towards the doors.

Brittany doesn't think about how it's the middle of third period and Santana and Quinn just left without protest from their teacher. She doesn't think about the fact that Santana's clearly plotting for something that involves Quinn, whatever it is. She doesn't think about what they're doing or how she's not invited. Instead, she turns her direction back towards the board and say's:

"Okay."

Even though for once, Brittany feels like it isn't.


	3. You Think I'm Just Too Serious

_A/N: Hey guys! Thank you for the kind reviews and responses to this, I honestly had no idea it would be such a hit. For those of you that are curious and keep mentioning it, I did state that this would be a Quinn/Santana fic and it IS. Anyway, please read and review if you get the chance. This chapter is mostly dialogue and I hope you all enjoy it!_

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**You Think I'm Just Too Serious, I Think You're Full Of Shit**

**Step One: Make Quinn laugh.**

**Step Two: Compliment her, genuinely.**

_**Step Three: Don't change who you are, but still be genuine. I repeat, act like a genuine bitch.**_

Santana grinned as Quinn let Santana lead her away from Brittany and towards the double doors. It was a smile of victory because Santana knew she was good, but she had no idea she was _that_ good. After all, it had taken a little under a week to get Quinn to actually think she wanted a friendship.

At this rate, Santana would be in Quinn's carefully locked away pants by mid December. Which, was literally in a week and a half.

Santana laughed, suddenly feeling very accomplished as they pushed through the double doors. This was certainly going to be _easy_ and a part of Santana was disappointed that Quinn caved so soon. After all, Santana loved a little fight here and there. It's what led her to setting Finn's shoulder pads on fire and pushing Jew Fro down a flight of stairs every now and then.

Santana was a girl built for destruction, and she enjoyed it when the things she put her sights on put up a little bit of a fight. Mostly because everything else in Lima was so easy.

Santana was caught up in her thoughts when she felt an arm tug her back towards the entrance. Santana turned around to see Quinn shaking herself from Santana's grasp, her bitch glare perfectly in place.

Santana huffed at Quinn's need to be always in charge. It hit at the most unfortunate times. "What gives, Fabray? If we get to Breadstix before noon, they'll give us half off our second order."

Quinn rolled her eyes, all friendliness gone from her features. "Now that we're away from Brittany, what do you really want?"

Santana tensed. "I want to hang out with you."

"Cut the crap Santana, you haven't wanted to hang out with me since I got you sent to the bottom of the pyramid."

Santana narrowed her eyes, irritated as always by Quinn's frankness. "Yeah, well, I'm growing. As a person and shit." Santana motioned towards her heart hoping that that would help Quinn paint a mental picture.

"I don't believe you." Quinn said, her tone accusing. "You're up to something."

"I'm not." Santana lied.

Quinn squinted, still refusing to believe Santana. "Santana. I'm going to ask you again, what are you doing?"

"Being genuine!" Santana exclaimed, not really enjoying that Quinn was basically accusing her of being the conniving bitch she was. Screw the fact that it was true, her mistrust was still hurtful.

"You are _never_ genuine unless it involves Brittany or Breadsticks, both of which, i am not. You want something and it's fine if you want to pretend like you're actually in this to be better friends, but I know you Santana. So either you tell me what it is you really want or you agree to my terms of this deal." Quinn crossed her arms defensively and it suddenly made sense to Santana why Quinn had been so quick to "cave".

Santana snorted when the reality of the situation hit her. She turned her head away, not ready to look Quinn in the eyes yet. "God, you're such a dirty bitch."

"Don't pretend like you don't admire it." Quinn shot back.

And that's where they were left (where their relationship always left them), at a mother fucking standstill. It hits Santana now that Quinn and her were two fucked-up peas in the same crappy pod, so of course Quinn would become suspicious at Santana's flirtatious and instant presence. It occurs to her that she's been going about this thing all wrong. She should've started with something easier, something more genuine, because everything else in their friendship had already been faked, ratted out, betrayed, and screwed over. Santana needed to start fresh and she needed to start _real_. Especially if she expected to have Quinn at her mercy in seven months. Santana turned back towards Quinn, hating how she always kept Santana on her toes.

"It's hard not to admire the grinch when he's standing right in front of you." Santana quipped.

Quinn smirked. "Careful. That almost sounds like a compliment."

It was, it always was a compliment when she said it to Quinn. But that was neither here nor there and she would never admit that out loud, not to her one-time-friend-most-times-enemy-other-times-bitch-person. "It isn't. Go on, get on with it."

Quinn hesitated and Santana can't deny that her interest is piqued. Quinn has never faltered around her and has most certainly never let her guard down. Quinn let out a shaky breath and gestured at the building behind them "Ever since that new Spanish teacher took over, I've been having a bit of trouble. My B average in that class has slowly been declining, and well, Senor Martin has told me that unless I do well on this last project then I'm going to end the year with a C."

"How do I play into this?"

Quinn shrugged. "Well, you are Hispanic..."

Santana laughed before she could stop herself. Here she was trying to get Quinn into her well manicured hands when Quinn was practically waltzing into them of her own accord. "Oh God. You need _my _help, that's rich."

Quinn stood up straighter, her body tensing. "I don't need your help, I need your assistance."

"Same thing."

"No." Quinn objected, her face tinging pink. "This is a trade, my silence in whatever this scheme is that you've conjured up in that wild head of yours, for your assistance with my essay.

Santana pretended to think it over so that Quinn wouldn't grow suspicious. "Fine."

"Good." Quinn said with a nod before turning towards her left in the direction of the auditorium.

Santana reached for her arm, confused. "Wait, where are you going?"

Quinn yanked her arm out of Santana's grasp for the second time in so many minutes and Santana had to push down the urge to slap her. Again. Quinn raised an eyebrow, her face pulled into a smirk. "Did you actually think I was going to skip school for you?"

"A little bit," Santana said, feeling sheepish all of a sudden. In her defense, she had been downright swayed by the idea of breadsticks. Once hunger took over her system, Santana couldn't take credit for any of the decisions or ideas she made.

Quinn faltered and it was so apparent that Santana had to credit it a win. Sure, it was another minor one, but hey, Jesus didn't turn water into wine in a day. Or was that Moses? What the fuck, whatever, it's not like Santana actually listened when Quinn's father used to drag them all to church.

Quinn recovered quickly, her appearance swiftly changing back to cool. "Well, I'm not, and I never had plans to." Quinn added, as if that really made a fucking difference. Santana fought back the urge to hit her, because that certainly would have made a difference. "I'm heading to the auditorium to work on our new cheer. You know, the one that's gonna make us champions again."

Santana rolled her eyes. For a girl who started off as an unknown Lucy Caboosey, Quinn certainly had a lot of confidence where it mattered least. "God, you are such an evil, smug, conniving little...wait, so why did you say that all that stuff in front of Brittany then?"

Quinn softened, her smile slipping off her lips. "I'm not blind, Santana. I know...I figured this was all one giant scheme to get back at Brittany since..."

Santana didn't continue Quinn's sentence, not ready to comment on how she's such a sad sack that it's obvious to those around her, including Quinn fucking Fabray. "So you were just going to willingly participate in this illusion?

Quinn hesitated again and Santana docked that as the second time in under ten minutes. God, she was getting good at this. "No, not willingly...just, look, I met you first so..." Quinn trailed off again, her eyes looking up towards the sun in embarrassment.

"So?"

Quinn leveled her gaze until it met Santana's. "In this weird triangle, my allegiance lies with you."

Santana tried not to grimace or grin, in this moment she had to be _careful_. She isn't stupid enough to believe that Quinn's statement is an offer of friendship, but it was something, and Santana gets this weird feeling like things are actually changing and not because she's the one making it happen.

Overall, she thinks that it's funny that Brittany is everyones blind spot. At least for them. In a sense she helped build the camaraderie between Quinn and her, and in a sense she also helped break it apart. Santana doesn't really know what to say because she hasn't planned for this moment, not yet, she had never expected Quinn to actually be honest.

They had spent the better part of their relationship competing for _everything_. Quinn was like that annoying little sister who knew all of your secrets and then would blackmail you into getting everything they ever wanted. She was like that, except with everyone, and it was aggravating.

Still, she was honest, so Santana owed her the same in return. "You've always been heroically loyal where it matters." She's talking about more than just cheerios or how Quinn kept her secret thing with Brittany an actual, well, secret. She's also talking about Glee Club and what Quinn sacrificed for them. But because it's her and Quinn, Santana refuses to say it out loud. She's not a sap or a loser and she doesn't do feelings, she only does revenge.

"Yeah." Quinn agrees, and it hits Santana on more than one level.

Santana wants to end it at that because she feels likes she's been too honest. It makes her feel dirty in a way that lying never could. She honestly just wants to go home and scrub herself clean, just like she did after Brittany made her watch Queer as Folk that one time. Santana wants to end it because she can only really handle Quinn Fabray in small doses. She can't handle looking at her pretty face and her small perfect boobs and her short cheerio skirt that was always more tantalizing than Santana's, no matter how many times she would secretly hem hers shorter.

But she has a plan and she needs to stick with it, especially if she wants to get back at the girl who ruined some of the best parts of her life.

"Wait." Santana calls out when Quinn starts walking away again. "Can I come with you?"

"Why?"

"Because we're fucking friends and I'm not going to go eat at an all you can eat lunch buffet at Breadstix by myself. I'm not that fucking lonely or in that much of a whale shark mood." Santana spits out, and it doesn't look like Quinn is buying it so she changes tactics. "Plus, I could use a little work on the last half. Coach says I'm a little sloppy." Santana lied, again, hoping Quinn would buy it.

"I've noticed."

Santana has to hold her breath because she wants to hit Quinn again. It's almost like this whole conversation never happened, like they just went back to how they were earlier when Santana had to physically restrain herself from choking a bitch out.

If this was what being friends with Quinn Fabray was like, then Santana was in for a long, bumpy, crazy ass ride.


	4. I'll Put My Faith In Something Unknown

_A/N: Hey everyone! It's been a minute. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Originally this story was supposed to have every other chapter come from a different glee member's perspective (that's why ch.2 was in Brittany's POV) however, I didn't like it. So hence the long wait for this. Please, please, please READ, REVIEW, FOLLOW or whatever. It gives me faith!_

_A/N2: To the person who keeps private messaging me just to harass me, these stories are a complete work of fiction. I have no intention of altering things to your pleasure and I'm sorry if it doesn't fit your desires. You are not required to read and I do hope you find something that sates you. Carry on!_

_A/N3: The underlined part was supposed to be crossed out but it won't transfer, so that part is supposed to be crossed out not underlined._

* * *

**I'll Put My Faith In Something Unknown**

**(I'm Living On Such Sweet Nothing)**

A little over a year ago Santana had been in Science class when her teacher had decided to discuss the laws of attraction_. Scientifically speaking_, her teacher Gretchen (Santana had never bothered to learn her last name, mostly because she didn't care and also because it was more intimidating this way. For Santana, not Gretchen) had said, _there are physical aspects and characteristics that certainly draw someone else to you. For example, symmetry in the face is a common characteristic that people tend to be attracted to. _

At that point, Santana remembers rolling her eyes because honestly, of course someone would be attracted to symmetry. Nobody wanted to date some lopsided bitch…at least, not on purpose. Santana already knew there were physical aspects that drew other people in, which is why it's called _attraction_. So she had decided to tune the rest of the lecture out and focus on the rest of her math homework.

About twenty-five minutes in Gretchen said something that Santana would consider intriguing at the time (and of use to her a year later). _Love is not something that scientists can force onto someone; there isn't an exact way to make two humans fall in love. However, I have come up with three ways in which love relatively blossoms. _Gretchen had said, _now let me show them to you and tell me if you guys agree._

At the time Santana had copied down Gretchen's notes because her interest had been piqued (and she had been going through the whole friends-who-have-sex-because-they're-gorgeous-not- because-they're-gay thing with Brittany). Who would have known that over a year later she would take that information and try to use it to her advantage just so she could take down Quinn Fabray (not Brittany, she would never do something so terrible to Brittany).

Take down Quinn Fabray, get underneath her, they were pretty much the same thing in Santana's mind. As long as she destroyed the chastity queen Santana could care less what else happened. And, hey, if she happened to get into Quinn's grandmotherly knickers, well, that would just be an added bonus because Quinn was pretty (on the outside) and Santana could fully get behind that. Both physically and metaphorically.

What, she was a bitch with eyes. Anyone who wasn't wearing blinders could see that Quinn had an ass that wouldn't quit and a face that Santana was just itching to see hooded in pleasure.

Santana froze, her eyebrows rising curiously with her thoughts. She laid down on her bed and sighed. That fact was no longer important because Santana's main focus was bringing her one-time-friend-always-time-enemy down. Nothing was as important as Santana being top dog or forcing Quinn to be at the bottom of that estrogen fueled pyramid.

Santana shivered at the memory of sharp knees and dirty shoes digging into her back. What a shit storm today had been. This is why she had to bring Quinn (the bitch) Fabray down. Sure, Santana had respect for her, but she also kind-of hated her guts. Santana was selfish and she wasn't afraid to admit it. She wanted—no she needed this to happen, and that was that.

I sounds awful to say out loud that this whole thing started simply because of boredom and her appetite for revenge, but Santana's done a lot more for a lot less and she thinks that if things had ended up differently…well, Quinn would be agreeing with her actions.

Quinn might have been a lot of things but nice wasn't one of them. She was a manipulative bitch and she didn't pretend to be otherwise. It was one of the reasons their friendship worked when it did and failed when it didn't. They were just too much alike.

It's also the reason that after only a week and a half of plotting, playing, and trying to get her way, Santana decided to change tactics. She's not a very genuine person and unfortunately for her, neither is Quinn. Quinn's suspicions had immediately spiked after Santana had tried spending more time with her and as a result Quinn was increasingly more wary. Santana couldn't play nice, not for very long, so her original plan was crumbling.

That's what made Santana think back to that day in class. While Gretchen had been obnoxious and her rainbow lab coat had pretty much been screaming lesbo, Gretchen had still made a point that day and Santana couldn't argue with it.

Santana had sat back in class when Gretchen had uploaded her PowerPoint and watched a bullet show up on the first slide.

_It only takes about 0.2 seconds to fall in love._

At the time, Santana had considered that notion ridiculous. Love couldn't happen that quickly, it had to happen over time or probably didn't happen at all. It wasn't until months later that Santana learned what that line had really meant.

She had been looking at Brittany after one of their sexy rendezvous in Santana's bedroom and one moment she had just been thinking about how awesome Brittany was and then the next—well, everything had just _changed_ and Santana had felt overwhelmed by the amount of feels that had surrounded her.

Feelings weren't her thing and yet they had quickly encompassed her in a matter of seconds. So, yeah, she gets it now. Actually falling in love is instantaneous. It happens when it happens and you have no control over it.

Santana sighed and flipped open her old Science notebook. That was neither here nor there anymore. Brittany no longer applied to her situation. This was about Quinn and how Santana was going to thoroughly fuck her up.

It was petty but she was Santana Lopez, so such a thing was practically written in her hardwiring.

Santana flipped through the notebook until she found the page. She was lying on her bed after a particularly brutal Cheerios practice. Quinn had sent her through the ringer today even though Santana had done nothing except try to extend an arm of kindness or whatever the hell it was that she projected when she was trying to kiss Quinn's ass. It was a clear sign that Quinn wanted Santana to read, it was a '_whatever it is you're up to, stop'. _

Sending Santana to the bottom of a sweaty ass girl pyramid was enough to make her realize that she had been going about this all wrong and that she was going to need to start from the beginning again. She would need new plan that wouldn't raise suspicions with anyone, especially Quinn. Yeah, it did suck that she had wasted a week and a half of her life being nice as she could possibly be. Her insults had suffered greatly from it and now she was consumed by all this extra hatred, but whatever, it was common for first plans to fail. Good scientists could acknowledge when something wasn't working. It made sense that in the beginning stages a scientist might have to scrap their original plan and start from scratch. Santana was moving too quickly and trying to do too much and now she was going to have to change her game.

Santana nearly squealed when her hands found the page she had been searching for. It was a good thing her mother had saved all of her school notebooks because otherwise Santana would have been screwed. Santana looked over the notes from that day and smirked, this was exactly what she needed.

**HOW TO MAKE SOMEONE FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU NOTES: (EVEN THOUGH YOU'RE SANTANA LOPEZ AND FLAWLESS, SO THIS DOESN'T REALLY APPLY TO YOU).**

**1. The Natural Way: ****Whatever it is, this is the type of love that cannot be planned.**

Santana rolled her eyes in response. Natural love was for suckers and people who threw Anti-Valentine's Day parties. There wasn't a moment that went by in Santana's life that wasn't planned and because of that, Santana wasn't a big fan of anything happening naturally.

**2. The High Road: Bring out the best in them.**

Again Santana rolled her eyes. There was no way she would ever intentionally bring out the best in Quinn Fabray. She would have to be purposely seeking suicide or something. Plus, she was almost convinced that such a thing didn't exist.

**3. The Devious and Dastardly Way: Give, withdraw, and repeat.**

Santana smirked. _Bingo._ It's like she was looking at a description of herself, really. Santana was all things devious and she projected all things dastardly, so this option made the most sense. Plus, what was life if you didn't manipulate some people along the way? Manipulation was humanity's greatest skill and Santana enjoyed enacting it on others. It was fun and it got her juices flowing (if you know what she means).

Santana grabbed the notebook (the one that had the article that started it all) and opened it. She crossed out her original (failing) plan.

**Act 1: Make sure they always associate you with positive feelings.**

**Step One: Make Quinn laugh.**

**Step Two: Compliment her, genuinely.**

**Step Three: Don't change who you are, but still be genuine. I repeat, act like a genuine bitch.**

Santana decided to keep the page in the notebook as a reminder of what hadn't worked so far in this experiment and what she could work on. She shrugged, she could admit defeat on occasion, as long as she fucking made up for it in the long run. She flipped the page to a blank one so that she could write in her new plan.

**Act 1: The Devious and Dastardly Way.**

**Step One: Give.**

**-FRIENDSHIP-Compliments, Solos, Time, Advice, Laughter, Memories, Make Plans.**

Santana snapped her notebook shut as she heard her mama yell that dinner was ready. She slid off her bed and pulled her skirt down so that it didn't ride up, not ready to hear her brothers comments on how short her cheerio skirt was getting.

All in all, Santana decided that she really didn't need to make Quinn fall in love with her over the course of time because let's face it; Santana wasn't the easiest girl to love. And as a result, she shouldn't need to change who she was because then it wouldn't feel real for Quinn. No, what Santana needed to do was be herself and sit back and wait for the perfect opportunity to hit her.

Santana just needed to wait until the perfect two seconds. She just needed a _moment_ where Quinn would make an error in judgment. It couldn't be that hard because Quinn was the type of girl who constantly made mistakes, which means she was trying to find _something_, and Santana could certainly be the girl to cash in on a person like that.

The next seven months would be used to take the qualities that Santana already had (the good ones, the ones Quinn couldn't resist because Santana was so effortlessly flawless and amazing) and use them to her advantage. She was going to have to be herself (because seriously, she was gorgeous, talented, had fantastic boobs, possessed legs for days, could sing and dance, carried a nearly perfect GPA, and did she mention she was gorgeous?) but a more acceptable and relatable and friendlier version.

Santana grimaced as she exited her bedroom, already exhausted at the idea of having to hold back any of her usual snipes from Quinn. She had one week left until Winter Break and she would need to milk it for all she could get.

If this didn't get Santana into Quinn's abysmally depressing hands off nether regions—heart, Santana meant Quinn's heart- then Santana didn't know what would.

* * *

**Step One: Give.**

_Friendship_

Santana decided the next day to start off with the biggest and hardest step: friendship. She wasn't exactly thrilled to be starting off with such a thing because spending more time than necessary in Quinn's vicinity was like putting your head through a toaster oven. However, it was necessary for the long run.

Quinn wasn't an idiot. She wasn't Finn Hudson or Puck or any other stupid boy that could be swayed with a swish of Santana's hips and a bat of her eyelashes. Quinn was prim and proper and everything else pedestal like (at its finest). She was practically a prude Barbie doll from the fifties. She wouldn't fall for something so unlikely coming from Santana. Quinn was a damaged piece of something, Santana knew, and it made her all kinds of epically suspicious.

Sure, it kinda also made Quinn crazy, but crazy Quinn was a hot Quinn so Santana couldn't really complain.

Anyway, coming right out and attempting to be Quinn's friend would end just as badly as this past week and Santana wasn't ready for another bout of rejection. It only egged Santana's inner anger on and she'd lose her chances completely if she ended up slapping Quinn this early.

No matter how great it would feel for her hand to smack Quinn's cheek (god, she could feel the tips of her fingers tingling at the idea, how fascinating).

No. She had a plan to adhere to. The end result was far going to outweigh any damage she could do right now. She just had to keep reminding herself of that. Santana licked her lips and frowned in hesitation. She was in the library during free period and she was attempting to come up with some sort of…well, anything that could give her an opening.

Sure, she had that whole tutoring thing with Quinn set up for Thursday, but that was on Quinn's terms. It was strictly business and Santana needed a way to get her foot in the door. She needed an opportunity, a perfect moment.

"I think Lord Tubbington has restarted his unhealthy obsession with Zumba videos again," Brittany said as she slid in the chair opposite of Santana. Her face was pale and her blue eyes were dimmed. Even though Santana was constantly wary about Lord Tubbington and Brittany's determination to speak about him as though he was a real person, Brittany obviously loved him and Santana obviously loved Brittany.

So she would do her best. Just like always.

Santana frowned in concern. Lord Tubbington could stand to lose some weight, but it was always excessive when he watched those videos. "How much did he lose this time?"

"Two pounds," Brittany said with concern. "He's practically wasting away."

"Britt, I'm sure he'll drop the habit soon. You know he doesn't like too much of one thing," Santana soothed, trying her best to change Brittany's mood. "Remember that time he stalked Rachel?"

Brittany smile softly at the memory. "Yeah, he said she sang too much."

"Exactly," Santana replied. She ran her hand through her ponytail out of reflex. "He'll give this up too once he remembers how much he loves eating…well, everything."

Color started returning to Brittany's face and Santana smiled at her success. While she wasn't in a relationship with Brittany anymore, she did find that making Brittany happy was still a priority. Yeah, it sucked that Brittany didn't want any part of her beautiful self anymore, or that she was denying Santana that delicious booty, but Santana understood. Or at least she pretended to.

They were friends who had been mostly lovers, but that didn't stop her affection. Sure, she wanted Brittany. But that wasn't an option right now so Santana was going to have to take what she could get. Plus, her focus was on taking a bitch down not getting down…and low…and—anyway.

"Are you still being weird with Quinn?" Brittany asked bluntly, her fingers were drumming against the table on reflex.

Santana frowned, not pleased by Brittany's words. "I'm not being weird, B, I'm trying to be her friend. You know, like how you and I are friends. Except Quinn's fucking anal and shit and can't handle me being nice or sincere. Or my version of what those two things are."

"Have you tried giving her sweet lady kisses?" Brittany inquired.

"That won't work." Santana dismissed. It was nice that Brittany was trying to help but, really, those ideas would only result in Santana getting slapped again and even though she was a fan of violence, she wasn't happy when it was directed at her. "Also, friends don't give each other sweet lady kisses, Britt."

"We do."

"We _used_ to," Santana corrected. "And you know we were never just friends."

Brittany frowned and Santana leaned back in her chair as a result. This wasn't the conversation she wanted to be having. She loved Brittany, proudly so, but this was about Quinn and Santana giving as good as she'd gotten. Brittany didn't need to be involved in this. "Britt-Britt, while I love the advice, it's not really necessary because one: Quinn is manipulative as shit, which we both know. Two: Attempting to be friends with Quinn is like being dunked in a pool full of ice, I don't need to raise the shock factor, okay?"

"Have you told her about how you gave Jew Fro your Cheerios skirt to stop him from telling everyone that Puck was Beth's dad?"

Santana turned her head to the side, her natural instincts to leap over the table and cover Brittany's mouth overwhelming her. "That's a secret, B, and I don't have plans on that ever getting out. Nobody needs to know for that a split second I might have had a heart."

Brittany shrugged just to shrug; sometimes it just seemed fitting for the situation. "Quinn really likes people who are like dogs. You know, like, people who are loyal and sweet and who follow her around. That's all."

Santana rolled her eyes unintentionally. Not because Brittany was wrong, but because Brittany was right.

"You might just have a point."

* * *

Santana's perfect moment came two days later.

She had been plotting and faking and pushing her way around to find a scrap of _something_, only for it to fall into her beautiful, extremely capable hands a couple days later.

Getting Quinn to see that Santana was genuinely interested in sparking a friendship was like trying to convince Man Hands that her grandma-underage-how to catch a predator style was never going to be _in._ So basically, it was useless.

Quinn was a very private(crazy) girl. She had her moments but for some reason she just expected everyone to respect her privacy. As if such a thing was possible in high school. Santana didn't completely get where she was coming from because to Santana, as long as people were talking about you, it was a good thing. She made the effort to get it though, just for the sake of this whole thing she was planning.

Anyway, there was a rumor hitting the masses that Quinn had recently hooked up with Puckerman at a party and while Santana clearly supported anything that'd make Quinn a little less evil and less high strung, she knew that if the rumor hit Sue Sylvester Quinn could kiss her Head Cheerio spot goodbye.

Santana has it on good authority that when Quinn rejoined the Cheerios she was forced to sign a contract that stated she'd never do the dirty with someone so _dirty_ again. And, _yes,_ Quinn losing her captaincy was essentially the goal that Santana was striving for, but this wasn't the way that she wanted this shit to go down.

She didn't want Quinn to be destroyed; she wanted Quinn to be absolutely_ devastated._

That mentality was sort-of just ingrained into her soul. Who was she to deny such a fabulous thing?

So, Santana waited it out until she spotted Jew Fro making his way over towards Quinn right before lunch. While he was basically vermin, he did control the gossip of the faceless masses, so he was necessary in getting Quinn's attention.

She's three lockers down when she hears Jew Fro utter the words that could basically destroy Quinn right now.

"So it's come to my fruitful attention that the wholesome Quinn Fabray has relapsed and indulged herself in some sweet, sweet loving with Noah Puckerman. What do you have to say on the matter?"

It's clear from the way that Quinn's eyes frantically divert across the hall that she's feeling like a scared little kitten right now. Santana hides her smug smile because all she could feel right now was this little thing called _success. _It's almost too good.

Quinn, for all her obvious fears, barely falters after that and grabs the collar of Jew Fro's shirt. "Where did you hear that?" Quinn seethes, her eyes burning into Jew Fro's.

It's enough to almost be an answer, Santana can tell. Jew Fro has spent four years with this Ice Queen, he knows Quinn's not physically capable of violence towards him and there isn't much more she could do to destroy his social status. He was already the lowest in the social totem pole.

That's where Santana came in. After all, Bitchy is what Bitchy does.

Santana steeled her shoulders and put on her best 'don't-fuck-with-me' face (which was really just her go-to expression) and made sure to ram into Jew Fro as she situated herself in-between him and Quinn.

"Hey Princess Powerpuff," Santana greeted making sure to completely ignore Jew Fro's presence. "Thanks for covering for me this weekend with Brittany. There's only so much I can feed the ducks before I physically want to strangle them with my bare hands."

Quinn's eyes widen but she seems to take the hint. She had always been a quick learner. "It was no problem. You know I'd do anything for Brittany."

Santana nods as if it's obvious. It was time to go for the gold. "It wasn't my intention to ditch her for Puckerman but we all know he was dying to get an experience with a Once Upon a time Head Cheerio that wouldn't end in a pregnancy. Poor guy had PTSD all these years and as the hottest shit to ever hit the fan since extra-large Capri Suns, I decided to be generous and give him the opportunity."

"Right," Quinn agreed.

Santana leaned in and lowered her voice. "He won't be able to properly move for days."

Santana heard a throat clear behind her and she grinned. She sent a wink Quinn's way before turning around with a scowl. "What the fuck are you doing here?

"I've been here the whole time.

Santana squinted. "I'm sorry, my vision doesn't recognize losers. They tend to blend in with their surroundings."

"Is it true?" Jew Fro asked earnestly, his microphone getting disgustingly close to Santana's face.

"Is what true? That I fucked Noah Puckerman? One: while that is nobody's business, I do believe that his world was rocked. Two: what I share with dear Quinnie the Pooh here is _private_ and not meant to make its rounds. I have a reputation to uphold and if I hear that you've leaked this little gold nugget of information about me," Santana leaned in and grinned manically, "I will not hesitate to ends you."

Jew Fro cowered on reflex and Santana checked it as a win. God, it was truly great to be Santana Lopez. Santana flicked her hands at Jew Fro. "Scamper on, Annie."

Jew Fro scrambled backwards before turning around and jetting down the hall. Santana blew on her nails and wiped them against her Cheerio skirt. She was seriously so good at this shit that she basically amazed herself.

"Why did you do that?" Quinn asks, her voice confused as it carried across the small space in between them.

Santana spun back around and did her best to look kind. It was hard, but she tried. "As much as I hate looking at your angelic face every day, I'm not sixteen anymore and it'd be pointless to end you when I already know that I'm better."

"And you're so humble too," Quinn quipped. She laid her hands flat on the bottom of her skirt and waited, god, Quinn was always a waiting type of person.

"Exactly."

"You didn't have to do that though," Quinn interjects even though it's clear Santana wasn't going to continue.

Santana picked that moment to make eye contact and was almost thrown off by how bright they were in this moment. It hit her then that this was definitely it; this was the moment she had been waiting for. This was Santana's chance to kick things off and she was going to have to be genuine because Quinn could smell insincerity like a fucking bloodhound.

"We both know that I did," Santana starts as she tries to figure out the right words to say next. In an attempt to make herself seem less hostile and conniving, Santana placed her hands behind her back and sent Quinn a soft (awkward) smile. "You kept my relationship with Brittany a secret for years," Santana admitted. "And even though I think you're a hypocritical bitch, I also think it's only fair that we end high school just like we started it."

"On top?"

"Duh, Idiot," Santana snipes before softening her eyes. "And I also meant together."

It's in this moment that Santana remembers how Quinn has always had such an incredibly good poker face. Quinn and Santana were cut from the same wood, it seemed, they were both too much the same with too many differences for Santana to ever truly get or hate Quinn. It's taken years to get this far, Santana thinks, and even now she wasn't anywhere close to that bitch's heart.

It was aggravating, but hey, Santana's pretty sure she enjoyed the challenge.

After a beat Quinn smiles and Santana almost deflates from relief. She doesn't though, because they're both still playing their parts and the key to keeping up the charade was to never break character.

Quinn laughs awkwardly, and it is awkward. "So, what happens now?" Quinn says with mild curiosity. "Are we supposed to hug now?"

"One: eew. Two: if you want to touch me you just have to ask, Quinnie."

Quinn rolled her eyes and Santana could almost see all the locks clicking into place. "In your impossible dreams, Lopez. I repeat, what happens now?"

Santana stuck her hand out in front of her and smiled when the gesture made Quinn jump.

"How about a truce?"

Quinn licked her lips in thought before promptly grabbing Santana's hand and shaking it.

"Okay. Truce."

Santana grinned. She had her _in_ and boy was Quinn Fabray going down. This shit was going to be epic.

Hopefully it would be devastatingly so. For Quinn, not for her.


End file.
